


The Reign of Grindelwald

by Leader_In_Red



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Hurt, M/M, Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-08-24 19:54:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16646675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leader_In_Red/pseuds/Leader_In_Red
Summary: What if Grindelwald succeeded in his war before Dumbledore could break the vow they made? However, he found himself unable to order his former lover slain and so decided that perhaps he could be of value in this brave new world he intended to create. Albus had indeed been the only man to ever match his intellect.But first, he must show his former lover his true place in the world, and guide him back to the "truth."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This is my first fic so I'm experimenting here. I'm not sure if this will continue or where it will go. Also, the non-con tags are mostly implied/to be safe for now. Who knows where this will go though. Please comment and let me know what you guys think.

The world slowly came into focus. 

First the distant sound of thunder rolling across the landscape, then came the sound of water slowly dripping in a somber tune. All this seemed far too loud, and yet, far too soft- as if it were being hammered through a cotton drum skin. 

Ever so slowly, Dumbledore opened his eyes and was greeted by nothingness. He was somewhere devoid of all light, be it sun or stars or candle flames. Beneath his hands he could feel the scratch of straw and rough hewn stone. And, if he inhaled deeply, he could smell the build up of mold and rot.

'Somewhere underground.' he mused gently. 

He flexed his fingers gently before rolling his wrists. It was then when he noticed them. 

His fingers gently explored his wrists only to find twin metal cuffs encircling each one like form fitting bracelets. He could find no clasp nor crack on either, but only several runes that were imperceivable to determine the nature of by touch. The cuffs where suspiciously similar to the ones the ministry had placed on him for a short time during the investigation into Grindelwald's escape. However, as he twitched his fingers in an attempt to call upon a simple wandless spell, he found that these cuffs where far crueler.

He could not sense his magic. Not a single spark of recognition emerged from his fingertips as he vainly attempted a small leviosa on a nearby piece of straw. He was cut off from his abilities. 'How in Merlin's name did Gellert manage such a thing?' he thought. 

Closing his eyes once more- for there was no point in wasting energy keeping them open when there was nothing to see. Dumbledore considered what brought him to this point. He had been keeping updated on his young pupil Newt's journeys after sending him out to find the obscures once more and dearly hoped that he would succeed. Meanwhile, he spent his time outside of classes attempting to break the vow he once made with a boy he thought he knew. But then, tragedy struck. Gellert's forces overtook the American Ministry and quickly moved on to Europe where the Ministry of Magic met any and all followers of Grindelwald with full force. By that time however, so many were enchanted by his message and appalled by the violence of the terrified Auroras that they joined his side. 

The last thing Dumbledore remembered was the attack on Hogwarts. A black shadow engulfed the school and before he could raise his wand, he was knocked unconscious. The next thing he knew he was awakening in this cold, dark cell. 

His first thought then came in regards to Hogwarts. 'What happened to the school? Where the children alright?' He once would have been certain that his lover would never harm innocent children, but after the incident, he couldn't be certain. 'How far had Gellert fallen?'

At this though, Dumbledore rose from where he laid and was met with the distinct rustling of chains. Reaching a hand upwards he found a thick metal collar around his neck with a chain trailing behind. He slowly moved himself backwards until he came into contact with a stone wall. His chain however, seemed to be secured at a higher point and hung down the wall behind him.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and determined that all he could do would be to wait. The war was in all likelihood lost, he was locked in an unknown location and robbed of both vision on magic. There was not much for him to do but worry about his students. He hoped that some of them would take heart enough to resist Grindelwald's charms, yet he was unsure if it would do any good. As he waited he became more aware of his body, the way the wrist cuffs felt nearly fused to his skin whilst the collar around his neck chaffed at the slightest twitch, the way the dampness seemed to seep into his very being and chill his bones, and the way he ached all over as if he had fallen from a broom at an unimaginable height.

After several hours, his chain of thoughts was interrupted by footsteps outside his door. He carefully steeled himself for the prospect of facing his childhood lover as the unmistakable sound of multiple enchantments being undone rang across his ears. 

Then, the door swung open. 

"Hello Al," an unmistakable voice cajoled. From the shadows, Dumbledore could make out those sharp, multicolored eyes that haunted so many of his dreams. Suddenly, a flame flew upwards and lit several previously unseen torches raised high upon the wall, revealing a circular cell of drab grey stone with an arching ceiling. It also lit up a feral grin plastered upon a face which though withered with time, was all too familiar. 

"What do you want Gellert?" Dumbledore questioned, voice strained from whatever was done to get him to that cell and weary with a resignation that seemed so wrong to any who knew him. 

"That is the question, isn't it Al. My old friend," that grin grew to an impossible size as he paced back and forth. "You've been out for a few days and I've been soooo busy. What, with all the ministries in Europe and the Americas answering to me alone." He then stepped forward and crouched down grasping Dumbledore's chin in a firm hold. "But you see Al, it's awfully lonely by myself. What do you say? Want to rule the world together like we always planned?"

At those words, the steal returned to Dumbledore's blue eyes as he stared down the monster in front of him. 

"I will not, Grindelwald. I thought that I had made it abundantly clear that I have no desire to take part in your perverted quest for power," he hissed. 

"Now now Al, moving to last names? I'm hurt," he placed a hand over his heart dramatically before releasing his chin with a hard shove, forcing Dumbledore's head to collide with the hard stone. 

He stood and crossed the room in several long strides before turning back towards his old friend with a dramatic flourish. Dumbledore had not moved in this entire time and remained with his eyes fixated on Grindelwald's wild gaze.

"One more thing Al, that vow we made," he cocked his head lightly, still grinning that mad smile. "Well it was a vow of magic. And, I'm sure you've noticed by now... you currently don't have magic. The terms don't work unless both parties posses some form of power." He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. "You belong to me now."

With another quick flourish he exited the cell and the heady door slammed shut behind him. There was a brief buzz as wardings were raised before it was silent once more with only the sound of dripping water meeting Dumbledore's ears. 

He was alone, powerless, and could do nothing against the man who he would have once trusted with his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one thing that I really want to play with here is that this Dumbledore is so different from the one in the Harry Potter books. Yes he is brilliant and somewhat manipulative, but he's also a lot younger. His heartbreak is fresher and he hasn't fought any wars yet. This is before he was forced to battle Grindelwald, before he fights Riddle in the first war, and before all the tragedies that befall during Harry's era. 
> 
> Also, I'm gonna keep switching between using Grindelwald's first and last name. Dumbledore tends to use names as a way of controlling the way one views an individual (think calling Voldemort by name around those who were scared to say it outloud, and then calling him Tom in their confrontation).

Time passes strangely when cut off from the world. 

That was one thing that Dumbledore noticed most distinctly. The torches from Grindelwald's last visit were left lit, but there was no source of outside light or sound. No guards paced his door, no witch or wizard ever entered to bring him food. He was utterly alone. He knew it had to be days for his beard felt less kept and his stomach growled with hunger. A while ago he found that his  _collar_ allowed him a small amount of movement- enough to reach the steady drip of water to the side of his cell. 

During his solitude, he had much time to think. He considered his family- his brother who didn't talk to him, his deceased parents, and his murdered sister. He thought of his students back at Hogwarts and once again hoped that they were safe. He thought of his growling stomach and increasing concern that Gellert might actually intend to let him rot. But most of all, he thought about all the mistakes he made over his lifetime. Oh there had been so many. How did his students look up to him so much? What would they think if they knew who he really was? 

The worst thing anyone could do to a man like Dumbledore is to lock him up with only his thoughts to occupy his mind. He had so many regrets in his short life time. It is indeed true that those who are the most remarkable, those who do what others cannot do, tend to make the mistakes that others could not bear. That was the fate of Dumbledore, and his old friend knew it. Dumbledore had always been the self reflective one. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to Gellert in their youth. While Albus was quiet and introspective, Gellert was like an exploding star. When one is in his company they can waste no time in dwelling on the past, they must race forward at the same speed that his mind whirls at. To race a mind like his was absolute agony, and yet, absolute bliss. 

After what could have been an hour or an eternity Grindelwald returned. He had that same mad stare on his face that chilled Dumbledore to the bone. That was not the boy he fell in love with, yet his heartbeat quickened. _Perhaps it was the memory?_ He couldn't bear the thought that it was fear. Fear that their vow was shattered precisely when he needed it so dearly.  _Did he need the protection of the vow? What would his old friend do to him?_

"So," he gestured grandly. "Have you considered my offer? All it would take is a promise to leave this little cell. I do my best on hospitality, but I have gotten complaints in the past." He smiled at his own sarcasm as he waited for a reply. 

"You know my answer Grindelwald," Dumbledore replied, throat scratchy from disuse. He remained seated, slumped agains the wall. However long he had been down there, it had taken its toll on him. 

"Oh. Come come now Al. What about our dream? Us being kings of the world together. I might even let you have a few of those muggles you love so dearly as pets." In a way, Grindelwald was actually being sincere. He truly believed that he could create a better world by ruling over it, and some part of him truly believed that Dumbledore would come to his senses and rule by his side. 

“I will not help you burn this world. You might as well kill me now,” Dumbledore replied. 

In a flash, Grindelwald had lept across the cell and grasped Dumbledore’s throat in an iron grip. His fingers pressed into the skin above Dumbledore’s collar and bared down with a thundering force. His voice, hissed between grinning teeth remained somehow soft and soothing as if it were a gently caress he offered as he spoke,

”Oh Al, so stubborn and certain. Always the one to get tied up by the inconsequentials and the casualties.” His grin grew as Dumbledore feebly grasped his wrists in weak attempts to remove his grip. “But see, there are other ways for me to pursuade you.”

Just as Dumbledore’s grip weakened and eyes grew dim, Grindelwald released his grip.

For a few moments, all Dumbledore could do was to bow his head as he gasped for air and choked on his own airway which still felt closed. Once his breathing became somewhat normal once more, he slowly raised his gaze to match Grindelwald’s. For a moment they locked eyes and Dumbledore swore that he saw some hint of regret in those multicolored orbs, but in a flash it was gone and replaced only with steel.

 “Nothing you do will change my mind,” Dumbledore rasped quietly. 

“Oh, well we’ll just have to see,” he leaned in impossibly close. “You know I’ve always loved a challenge.

Before Dumbledore could consider Grindelwald’s words, the wizard snapped his fingers and Dumbledore’s collar yanked him to the center of the circular cell, pulling him to the floor until he was forced to kneel, prostrated downwards to acoid choking. With another flick of Grindelwald’s wrist, Dumbledore felt his shirt dissapear and his back exposed to the chill air of the cell. He swore his shivering was just from the cold.

”Last chance Al,” came the same mocking voice as his footsteps echoed around the cell. He was pacing around the prone figure like a cat stalking a mouse already trapped. 

“No,” Dumbledore whispered in a voice that stood on the precipice of calm.

Grindelwald merely shrugged. He stood behind Dumbledore and out of sight, giving him no warning before he brought a conjured whip down on his bare back. 

Dumbledore bowled in pain. It was like nothing he has ever epirienced in his life. With each slash, flesh peeled from his back and bloody strips were left in its wake. There was no respite, the whip swung down with brutal force at a pace meant to ensure he experienced every piercing second of his torment without a single moment of rest between strokes. Meanwhile, Grindelwald continued to speak as if other the wizard was not writhing in agony beneath him. 

“This all could be avoided if you would just stick to the plan Al. I mean, it’s not like those stupid muggle governments would stand a chance against me alone, but together- oh the things we could do.” 

He paused for a moment in his torture inorder to card his fingers through Dumbledore’s hair. The other reacted by violently flintching as if the touch was another lash. 

“Now that’s just rude,” Grindelwald pouted mildly before continuing. “You see, it would’ve been so much less messy to use a simple  _crucio,_ but why do that when the muggle come up with such creative methods of pain. This is a muggle invention you know. A method to keep slaves in line and remind them of their place.” 

For several minutes longer, Grindelwald administerd his twisted discipline in silence. Then, when it seemed Dumbldore was near fainting and Grindelwald grew bored, he relented and vanished the whip. Still positioned behind Dumbledore and out of his line of sight, Grindelwald crouched down and examined the macrabae artwork he created. Bloody red lines cris crossed Dumbledore’s back and leaked shiny red fluid down his sides. In some sick fascination, Grindelwald drove his fingers into some of the larger gashes, causing them to leak more blood as Dumbledore violently spasmed- pained cries wretched from his lips before he laid limp once more. 

Slowly the chains receded until only the oridinal tether binding Dumbledore to the wall remained. Yet, he did not move as the pain prevented even the thought of stirring. Slowly, Grindelwald paced until he stood infront of the wrecked wizard. He leaned down and took Dumbledore’s chin in his hand with such tenderness it almost seemed lovingly. 

“Don’t you remember Al, when we were boys we promised. We were supposed to do this together. But, look st you now.” He shook his head in pity. Dumbledore then whispered something, so quietly, Grindelwald was forced to ask him to speak up. He eventually obliged,

”I am not a boy anymore,” he gasped. 

Grindelwald grinned,

“No,” he murmured softly, licking his lips in a way that forced Dumbledore to shiver despite the pain which wracked his body. “You most certainly are not.” 

Then, he pressed his lips to Dumbledore’s ear as if they were children telling a hidden secret. “And guess what,” he pulled back with that manic tone creeping into his voice, “neither am I.”

With a sharp and abrupt turn, Grindelwald left the cell and locked it with the same web of spellwork once more. As much as he enjoyed his prize, he was in a hurry. He had an empire to build. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm so amazed by your lovely feedback. Thank you so much for your kudos and comments, they really mean a lot to me. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, life got a little crazy and then I hit some extreme writers block. This chapter didn't exactly turn out as I hoped, but it's my first try at writing anything like this.
> 
> Now I will warn you, this is going to start getting dark. I'll try my best to update the tags as I go, but let me know if you think I should add another.

Dumbledore laid with his stomach pressed to the cold stone floor. It was the only position that allowed him some form of peace as his back, covered in stiff and occasionally leaking scabs, protested with every movement. Even his occasional trips to the other side of his cell to get water were a struggle. This was the first time he ever experienced something like this. Among wizards, injures of the like could easily be cured with a few potions and a night's rest- not that wizards would ever gain injuries in such a way.

Oh how he longed for the Hogwarts infirmary where the lovely mediwitch would happily provide him with pain potions brewed by their very own Potions Master. His soft bed and his warm chambers with a blazing fire to keep the chill of the drafty castle at bay. For a brief moment, Dumbledore worried what would become of him come wintertime. The castle of Nurmengard was situated high in the mountains and his cell held not protections from the cold. In the state he was in at the moment, he would likely die by the first snowfall. Nonetheless, he had larger worries. 

At least a week, possibly two, must have passed since his capture and his steady diet of murky water would not sustain him for long. Also, Dumbledore had recently noticed that his back was unusually hot. The stinging sensation that embalmed it immediately after the whipping session was overtaken by a constant and growing burn, as if his flesh was melting candle-wax. While Dumbledore was not the most experienced mediwizard, he could only assume that the wound had sustained an infection. 

 During one of his moments of drifting between consciousness and blissful sleep, he was interrupted by the sound of his cell door opening once more. This time however, he could not find the strength to even lift his head to greet the mad wizard who strode in without a care in the world. In fact, he found himself slowly drifting further away from the world, as if he were sliding below the depths of icy water. Just barely he could make out the muffled words of his old friend, he sounded angry. 

"What now Al, fainting after so little time. Look at you, the  _greatest wizard of our age_ can't even go three weeks without supper. Oh how sad. You know you always were..."

Grindelwald's voice faded as Dumbledore lost consciousness, only barely having time to note that he had indeed state  _three_ weeks. He had been a captive for  _three weeks!_

 

 

*****

 

In much of the same manner as he had lost consciousness, Dumbledore slowly reemerged into the world. Several things immediately stood out to him. One, he was not in his cell, the floor was as cold yet felt of smooth marble as opposed to rough, unhewn stone. Two, a thin blanket covered him from the waist down- and only a blanket. Three, someone must have healed his back as his wounds were no longer. And four, perhaps most importantly, that someone was still there. 

Abruptly he attempted to sit up, but was stopped by the collar still wrapped around his throat. A pretty blonde witch sat on the stone floor by his head, a wand airily waving as she checked his health. She smiled lightly and tilted her head to the side. 

"Don't worry," her voice was as light and airy as her appearance. "I am quite good at healing spells. One of the few things that I'm good at." She moved her gaze upwards as if she were speaking to no one in particular. "I might have even been a mediwitch if I did better in school." She turned her gaze back to Dumbledore and a mildly unsettling feeling passed him. "I went to Ilvermorny you know, our curriculum is harder than Hogwarts."

"Thank you," he rasped, his voice feeling heavy with disuse. "I am..."

"Of course I know who you are," she chuckled lightly. "Grindelwald talks about you all the time." 

Not bothering to reply to the remark, he slowly raised a shaking hand to his neck, feeling the weight of the collar still there, pressing against his throat at a level that just barely avoided restricting his breath. For a brief moment he recalled how Gellert used to wrap his hand lightly around his neck, drawing their heads in close as they whispered secrets and mysteries together. Oh how his chest had swelled with desire and fulfillment from merely standing in his presence. Then, once more, he dispelled those thoughts. Grindelwald had made it abundantly clear that their dreams for the future were no longer the same. They were too different. 

When he turned his attention back to the young witch in front of him however, something had changed. She no longer wore the light smile which graced her lips earlier. Instead, she appeared angry- nearly furious. 

"Is there something the matter..." he began, but was once again interrupted. 

"You loved him and he loved you. You had love and threw it away like it was nothing," her voice rose in pitch as she stood angrily. "You're a fool, a damn fool."

"You're a Legilimens," he gasped, throwing up his barriers. Oh how exhausted he must be to not have noticed the obvious, how weak so that he did not feel the probing of another consciousness sifting through his mind.

"Love is a precious and rare thing," she stared into his eyes coldly, "those who waste it are, are..." she shook her head and stormed out, never finishing her sentence. 

From that point Dumbledore noted that he must make a point of maintaining his occlumency. Never before had that been an issue with so few legilimens existing. In fact, he had only learned the skill as he had trained in it with Gellert. It was a skill that the now dark wizard had believed would aide them in the future. In a way, he was still quite correct about that. 

Such ponderings aside, Dumbledore used this short reprieve to take stock of his current situation. His back was healed though his stomach still ached for food. His accommodations had quite clearly improved as now he laid on the floor of what appeared to be a bedroom. The floor was smooth marble and unblemished save the thick ring beneath his neck which his collar was tethered to. He ran his fingers lightly along the short length of chain and felt the comforting hum of magic. Though said magic kept him contained and was cast by the darkest of wizards, it somehow became a comfort to him as for three weeks he had not felt the warm presence of magic. Strange how something so ordinary can become longed for after a short time without. 

Though forced on his back by the short length of chain, Dumbledore swept his gaze across the room. It was austere, sharp edges on each barren piece of furniture which stretched to the glass ceiling, color tones of silver and grey weaving to form intricately laced patterns. Somehow it appeared atrociously expensive yet utterly horrible. Perhaps it the coldness of the furnishings that turned Dumbledore off. He always preferred warmer comforts.

Speaking of such comforts, Dumbledore found himself idly rubbing the blanket with his fingers. It was a thick woolen thing, a bit scratchy but effortlessly warm. He had little time to ponder on his lack of other coverings however as footsteps soon approached. Due to the position he was chained in, he had no ability to see the door and so was forced to simply wait as he heard the creaking of an door opening and measured footsteps approaching. Of course, he did not need to look to know who it was. 

"You clean up nicely Al," Dumbledore fixed his eyes on the glass ceiling and did his upmost to pretend the dark wizard did not exist. "I'm sure you met one of my newest followers, such a sweetheart." His steps continued to echo around the vast chamber though he stayed out of Dumbledore's line of sight. "Poor dear thing had her heart broken. I can empathize."

"I was not aware that you were capable of empathy," Dumbledore finally responded. 

In an instant Grindelwald stood above him, wand pressed to the hollow of Dumbledore's throat. For a moment, they locked gazes and Dumbledore swore that his old friend would kill him right then. He closed his eyes and prepared for the Avada Kedavra. It never came. 

Slowly he opened his eyes and witnessed Grindelwald's predatory grin. The mad wizard tapped his wand to the chain attached to Dumbledore's collar and it disappeared. He stepped backwards, grin still in place, and watched Dumbledore expectantly. 

Dumbledore hesitantly moved, slowly rising first to his knees, blanket still clutched around his waist, before hesitating slightly and attempting to stand. As soon as he rose half an inch, Grindelwald hit him with a Crucio and he collapsed once more. By the time he struggled back to his knees, Grindelwald had summoned an ornate armchair and was sitting in it, watching Dumbledore patiently. This time, he remained on his knees and waited. It did not take long before Grindelwald spoke. 

"Such a fast learner Al. You always were quick to pick up on things. Too bad you were always stubborn at being told what to do."

Dumbledore said nothing, simply fixing the dark wizard with a blank stare. He knew that Grindelwald loved to hear  the sound of his own voice. Perhaps he would wear himself out with his speech and grow board. The odds were unlikely, but it was a nice fantasy to imagine.

"Now as for that nasty thing you said earlier," he cocked his head and slowly leaned forward. "You of all people should know it to be untrue. I don't like liars, but perhaps you could make it up to me. Hungry?"

At the mere mention of food, Dumbledore's mouth watered. His stomach felt like it was touching his spine and ached in a way he did not even know to be possible. His weeks of captivity had taken a toll on his body and areas that had once been padded with soft flesh were reduced to tight skin stretched over bone. He felt ragged and fragile, like he was held together with strands of silk. 

Slowly Dumbledore nodded. As soon as he did he regretted it as Grindelwald's smile grew. 

"Wonderful, all you need to do is satisfy me. Then I will ensure that you are satisfied." He smiled and untied his trousers, grinning at his own joke and the look of horror which quickly spread across Dumbledore's face. With a snap Dumbledore's blanket disappeared and the collared wizard lurched backwards as if he had been struck by lighting. Scrambling on all fours until his back crashed into a wall behind him, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. 

"Oh come now lets not do this Al I haven't got all day," he lazily waved his wand to Dumbledore's direction "accio slave." With a burst of speed Dumbledore found himself once more kneeling before Grindelwald, his panicked mind still sharp enough to feel the sting of the spell considering him no longer a man, but an object. An insult which Grindelwald most certainly intended. 

"No," he managed to whisper, attempting to pull back but finding himself rooted to the spot. 

"Come come dear. It isn't like you've never done this before. Remember that summer..." his voice trailed off as he enjoyed the abject terror in Dumbledore's eyes. The  _great wizard_ cowering before him, scared and confused. It was an erotic sight. "I could always force you, without your magic an Imperio would be quite simple, of course, it would be much more violent."

"No, Gellert not now, please no," Dumbledore's voice faltered. He thought he had been scared when Grindelwald captured him, when he was whipped and left for dead, or even when the elder wand was pressed to his throat. Nothing compared to the fear of this violation. 

"Oh, so we're back to first names. Now now Albus, don't think your kitten eyes will fool me. Either you do it right and I'll be gentle, or I Impero you and do it much less gently. Either way it occurs and I get what I want."

Dumbledore realized that his pleas were useless. A tiny part of his mind begged him concede and make this easier for him. Complete the task and get a meal, but he couldn't do it. He pressed his lips together and shook his head, leaning back as far as the spell allowed. Grindelwald sighed dramatically. 

"Well then it seems I haven't a choice. Imperio," he cast the spell without effort and Dumbledore found himself trapped in his own body. His mind clawing towards the surface of a lake frozen over with ice. 

Against his will his hands moved forward, unlacing Grindelwald's trousers and slowly pulling them down. Next came his pants and despited the Imperio, Dumbledore's hands shook. Grindelwald was already fully hard, just the sight of a few tears slipping from Dumbledore's eyes was enough to make him groan. With a gentleness that mocked their time as lovers, Dumbledore took Grindelwald into his hand and then guided the stiff appendage to his mouth. Before he could fully wrap his lips, Grindelwald throats forward violently, hitting the back of Dumbledore's throat and pushing further. He buried himself as far as he could as Dumbledore's heart raced, his mind begging Grindelwald to release him as his lungs screamed for air.

For over a minute Grindelwald continued to make small thrusts, never leaving the warm pocket of Dumbledore's throat, never giving him a moment to breath. He buried himself so deeply that he could feel the metal collar around Dumbledore's neck constricting his passage. Yet he continued. 

Just as he was near completion he drew backwards and released into Dumbledore's mouth, forcing him to swallow every last drop. Unwillingly, Dumbledore complied, gasping for breath between swallows, oxygen filling his aching lungs. Then, Grindelwald forced Dumbledore to finishing cleaning him, tongue slowly licking each and every drop before he lifted the Imperio.

The moment he did, Dumbledore collapsed into a heap. There he laid on the floor, shivering and dry heaving as there was too little in his stomach for him to regurgitate. Grindelwald smiled and waited, but Dumbledore refused to look up. After several minutes, Grindelwald took the hint that his old friend would refuse to acknowledge him. He snapped his fingers and a plate of plain rice with boiled chicken and vegetables appeared on the ground next to the trembling wizard. He then flicked his wand towards the ring and another chain, this time longer, sprung forth and attacked itself to Dumbledore's collar. 

As he stood to leave he hesitated for a moment, eyes raking across Dumbledore's wrecked form. Slowly, he crouched down and leaned close. Finally drawing a reaction out of the unresponsive wizard as he flinched when Grindelwald ran his fingers through his hair. 

"Maybe next time you'll be a bit more obliging Albus." 

Soon, he was gone and Dumbledore laid alone once more. Trembling, his brilliant mind struggled to catch up to what his body had just endured. Some terrifying, dark, but usually correct part of his mind suggested that this was only the beginning. 


End file.
